Daddy, Not Bats Origins: Dick
by Glimare
Summary: FROM THE DNB AU: From the journals of Alfred T. C. Pennyworth comes the story of how one eight year old Richard J. Grayson changed Bruce A. Wayne from justice minded, brooding, Dark Knight, into the father and man he thought was lost forever in a bloodied alleyway many years ago. How one boy changed Wayne Manor for the better. Fluff, foreshadowing, AU retelling
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** in no way shape or form do I own anything or get any money in relation to Batman or his Robins, unless I'm selling my copies back to the store. This is merely for fun.

Now, I need to say this first: this story isn't remotely done. BUT today is Dick's birthday, in the majority of the comics and many people's head cannons. It is definitely the first Robin's B-day in _Daddy, Not Bats_, and as I didn't have a short to share, I felt I had to do something for the guy. So I decided to put out the first chapter of his Origin story for DNB. All the origin stories (minus one but not for a long time) will be told by Alfred in first person, which is tricky for me. Normally I don't do first person, ever. I normally don't do a lot from Alfred's perspective either, as the way he speaks and talks is a lot harder to figure out and put down than others. Intelligent slang, I get it. Posh Alfred talk, it's a bit harder. So don't expect quick updates with this one. It's a work in progress and I have others on my plate.

That being said, take a look into the DNBverse's Richard John Grayson's origin story. Enjoy!

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**_Daddy, Not Bats Origins: Dick _**

1

I wish I could say my first encounter with Master Richard was at Haly's Circus where his parents fell to their deaths, but it was not. Nay, all I can say is this: Master Bruce would have never met the dear boy if it had not been for my prodding. He ordered the tickets to see Haly's Circus around the same time as other socialites had, all for charity. Many members of the higher class attended that night: old classmates, friends and enemies, and many people Master Bruce would dare not associate with out of principle. They were all there that night.

And yet Master Bruce was the one most changed by the event.

I had the night off. Instead of visiting friends or attending to personal errands, I gave myself a relaxing evening by the fire, a cup of earl grey at my side and a fine novel in my hands. Though others may say differently, I rather enjoy a good fantasy novel. Edding's Sorceress of Darshiva was my choice that night, nearly completing the series, when I heard the garage door open and rushed footsteps darted towards the study from it.

Curiosity alight, I followed. I had believed my sound thrashing earlier that day about Batman needing a night off (and he had bought tickets) would keep him from the cave long enough to recuperate from his last beating. Really this glutton for punishments of the most unusual sorts, was going to be found in a gutter one night if he did not rest sometime soon.

"Care to explain why the sudden wardrobe change Master Bruce?" Raising an eyebrow at my former charge (now being I am only his employee these days), I hoped to gain some answers at long last. It was nary ten in the evening, a prime time for Batman to start appearing, but he had two rows of stitches in his side and a large bruise between them. Then there were the cracked ribs, formerly dislocated shoulder, bruised hip, and cracked wrist. A very poor landing caused these injuries and we agreed to let them heal for a few days at the least.

Batman was half dressed, looking franticly on his computer for something while pulling on the rest of his costume. He didn't even look at me as he hastily put his boots on and read the screen. On it was an itinerary for the circus he visited earlier that day, along with a few recorded financials. From what I could see, Haly's Circus was making even with some left over for insurance purposes. Nothing too out of the ordinary there.

"Haly's trapeze act fell to their deaths tonight," Master Bruce informed me as coolly as he could manage. A crease in his brow told me there was more. "Their son believes it was sabotage."

"Their son?" I tried not to be horrified at the thought of death at the circus. We already had a chaotic clown making Gotham a nightmare along with others who belonged to a 'freak show'. Another act bringing death would mar the good names of performers to all the city's citizens. And for them to leave a son behind...

Quickly the dark knight pressed a few keys and brought up the profiles of the 'Flying Graysons'. A family act. John, Mary, and Richard Grayson. Young Richard was only eight years old.

I took a step forward to read the screen better, sorrow starting in my chest as my eyes fell upon the boy once again. John and Mary were two of the best aerialists in the world. They could perform the quadruple summersault and swung without a net beneath them. Their young son was learning everything they knew, and started performing when he was five. Pictures of the boy reminded me greatly of Master Bruce, back when his parents were alive. Smiling, energetic, eager to please. His bright sky blue eyes danced in the photographs. When with his parents, they shone even brighter. Richard was a very lucky young lad, until that night.

"Richard Grayson," Master Bruce continued, moving on to his gloves. "He said his father checked the ropes before each show and it had to be sabotage. It was all I could overhear before child services took him away."

Hearing that, I internally cringed. The local social service was not a pleasant group. Eighteen years ago those people placed Master Bruce with his mother's family without consulting his parents' will. It took me two years to attain custody of him because of their interference. And when I had gained custody, such damage and trauma was imprinted on the lad, he was determined to become the vigilante he is now. Had I been given custody of Master Bruce back then, I assure you, he would have taken a less dangerous road.

Well, times do indeed change a person. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the young man I raised was pulling on his cape and cowl. "Does he have any family?"

"I don't know." Batman finally looked at me, physically acknowledging me at long last. "There's a lot I don't know about this case. Find out what you can from here. I'm going to find proof if I can."

I nodded. "And once you do?"

"Bring their murderer to justice." A slight growl in his voice told me there was much more to this story and I would have to pry it out of him in due time, but right then Batman had to work quickly to ensure this murder wasn't covered up. Without another word, the detective leapt into his car and drove off into the night.

I must admit, I sighed helplessly. There he went, injured and agitated, reminded heavily no doubt of his parents' deaths, and only the armor and cape he wore to protect him. To think the bright and shining inquisitive lad I met near twenty-two years ago was now a man lost in a dark abyss with only a murder case to light his way. And yet he still shed his clothes everywhere around the room. Shaking my head, I picked up a once fine silk dress shirt, slacks, and $200 shoes to deposit upstairs for proper care. I did notice the lack of one suit coat, something I would look into later, but I digress. As soon as Master Bruce's laundry was clear of the cave, I returned to the computer to look into the Graysons, particularly if there were some nefarious dealings in their pasts.

What I discovered made their deaths more tragic by the second. The Graysons were model citizens. John was born and raised in Haly Circus, as was his father. He left for a few years to serve his country in the coast guard, but came back to the life he loved, with his beautiful wife. Mary's family had disowned her for leaving them and their Romani heritage. They were a very traditional sort and would have nothing more to do with her, despite following their skillset with her new husband. They were married three years before Richard was born and seemed to have no dealings with the mob or any loan sharks. Both had even assisted in stopping thefts in the past, exposing criminals who hid in their circus whenever they ran across one. They were well received all around the globe, especially since they were considered the best acrobats in the entertainment world.

Hearing the news report off to the side saddened me further. Vicki Vale, Master Bruce's current lady friend who had attended the event with him, was animatedly reporting about the incident on one of the many screens attached to the computer. "_As Mary Grayson turned around in the air to position herself to catch her son, the rope holding the bar her husband John was on snapped. Both fell fifty feet to the ground below. Coroners say they died on impact, sustaining multiple injuries throughout their body. They leave behind their eight year old son, Richard, who was on the platform preparing to join them during the accident._"

"He saw it all happen." My conclusion explained more than its fair share. It was no wonder Master Bruce was so determined to go out into the field, even though he was unfit to be out there. Like himself, Richard Grayson had seen his parents die, and was convinced it was murder. Batman would be able to determine if it was truly murder that night, then move on from there. He would solve this case.

But what of the boy? His father had no family, and his mother's side was highly estranged, even more than the Kanes were to Miss Martha. His only family as far as he'd know was the circus, and they had no legal right to him. Richard would be a ward of the state. If he was lucky he'd be placed in a good foster home, but this was Gotham and he came from the circus.

The boy's life there was going to be rough.

My heart went out to him, but I pushed it aside. I was too old to take in another young lad, let alone an energetic one who grew up on the road. And with Master Bruce's double life, he was hardly a suitable candidate to care for him. If only he didn't lead such a dangerous life in the shadows...

It was nearing two a.m. when the batmobile returned. I feel I had become an expert on the Graysons according to the internet, on them and Haly's Circus, during that time. I must admit, I was a little worried about their financials being as stable as they were but I digress. Looking to the black car, I waited impatiently for my former charge to come out and state whether it was an accident or murder. Part of me prayed accident, but as soon as Batman stepped out with a tattered rope in hand, I knew the truth.

"Sabotage." The dark knight swept through the cave to the computer and chemical lab not too far off. "The rope has remains of acid on them, industrial grade. The fibers aren't easy to destroy without one."

"I see. And what did young Mr. Grayson have to say about the rigging?" I stepped forward to see what else he had learned, eager to know more. Though I keep a stoic face as per my station, I do love to know what transpires on Batman's cases.

A negative quirk around the young man's mouth told me more than I liked. "I couldn't find him. Social services took him somewhere off the books."

"Good lord..." I knew well what that meant. Young Richard Grayson was lost in the system. Not even twelve hours after his parents' deaths and he was inside a bureaucracy that cared little for the mental and emotional health of its citizens. "We need to find him."

"Agreed. He may be a material witness to his parents' case." He looked over to me at last, his jaw set. "I left the second rope with Captain Gordon to run tests and validate my findings. He's looking for the boy too. Once he's found, he'll have to be taken into protective custody. His parents' killers may try to shut him up."

A thought came to my mind, one I believe shaped the entire future before us, and I do mean us. "Might I suggest, that Bruce Wayne take an interest in the boy?"

Batman's head jerked back so fast I feared he would suffer from whiplash in the future. "What?"

"It would be quite suspicious of Batman being directly involved with an eight year old boy from a circus who has only been in town for a few days. Haly's Circus is not part of any organizations in Gotham, nor is it a victim of a theme criminal. The likelihood of him being involved with the lad without arousing attention to the boy is minimal.

"If Bruce Wayne, someone with a similar personal background and who was there tonight, were to inquire after Mr. Grayson's wellbeing, well, no one would look twice. It could even be seen as good press, taking a direct interest in orphans. And who better to take care of the funeral than one who was there?"

Batman just gaped for a minute, then slowly pulled back the cowl to see me in a clearer light, confusion weighing on his face. "Are you saying I should get directly involved... on a personal level?"

"You do feel for the boy," I pressed. "Don't deny it. The instant I found out Richard had seen his parents' fall, I knew why you were so animate about this. You need to see this case through. Bruce Wayne is not adverse to acts of charity, and seeing you are personally invested in this, becoming more actively involved is the best option, for the both of you.

"No doubt the boy is in shock and needs a friend, one who knows what he has gone through personally. Who better to speak with him about tonight than you? After all," a smirk grew on my face, "you already gave him your suit coat."

Master Bruce looked away sheepishly, trying to hide his anxiety. Of course I knew where the coat went. For the brief time I had with Young Master Bruce after his parents' deaths, I recalled the lad being wrapped in a police officer's coat. The one officer on the scene had made a deep impression on him with that gesture, one where with he trusted that man still with everything he had. Captain Gordon was an ally to Batman, and a treasured friend to Bruce Wayne. Of course he'd repeat the gesture to Richard Grayson, and likely have the same results.

He, not Batman, was the best man for the job.

"I'll see what I can do."

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A/N: What do you think? Good opening? I also don't have any ownership to Edding's Malorean series, though I do own a copy. I do believe Alfred enjoys a good fantasy novel every now and again, and I try to give him a broad selection.

I thought it'd be interesting if Alfred was the one who gave Bruce the idea of taking Dick in, giving them more of a ground work to start on. Like I said before, don't expect fast updates. This isn't done and Dick's story is probably gonna be the longest of the batkids. If you have any ideas of Alfred like chapter titles, do tell. All I can think of is 'In which...' bits. =/ ah well. Until next time. ^^V


	2. Chapter 2

Due to it being Batman's official 75th birthday, I decided to update what I could of the batclan. Pretty much just DNB stuff as I'm pretty head deep in other fandoms. ^^; yeah... still I think I have about... 4 chapters of this one done so I thought #2 would be a good addition. Still don't have chapter names so... anywho, enjoy the journals of Alfred Pennyworth!

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2

Imagine my surprise at the turn of events that took place shortly after our discussion. It took little over a week to locate Richard Grayson, digging through mounds of paperwork, police reports, and even facial recognition programs. The boy was not at any of the known orphanages in Gotham, nor in any of the foster homes we could find. Social services did not use a church group for placement either, making the search nigh impossible.

But find him we did. In Juvenile Hall.

As Bruce Wayne was making official inquiries about the boy in regards to the funerals soon to take place, Captain Gordon's assistance proved pivotal in his discovery, and later removal. Hearing this young father as angry as he was when he found the lad's location gave me more respect for him than I had before (which has always been high, I assure you). The berating he gave the social worker who placed Richard there could only be compared to Batman's wrath against child molesters, or so I am told.

The phone call from Captain Gordon arrived around eleven at night, hardly a good time to post a call to anyone, let alone arrange for better accommodations afterwards. I had no choice but to inform Master Bruce we would have to see to the lad in the morning. Crouched over the rope and acid samples he was experimenting with to better identify the compound, I had to cough to gain his attention. My silent approach still makes the man jump.

"Pardon the interruption sir but Captain Gordon has uncovered Richard Grayson's location." Batman whipped his head about to look at me, starved for information. The entire investigation screeched to a halt after he identified who took the lad away, and as Batman was not going to show his interest in the case just yet, he couldn't investigate much further. "Browngate Institute."

"Juvie Hall?" Outrage filled the man's voice, and I could not blame him. "He doesn't belong there!"

"Agreed. Captain Gordon informed me you two were making other arrangements for him?" This is something I had not known of until that moment. Seeing my former charge gulp down something, I knew something was brewing.

"Yes, I have." He took a deep breath and set the tests he was working on to the side. Seemed he was nearing a dead end again anyway. "I've been talking to the legal department and managed to find a way to place Richard in my custody."

This took me for a slight spin, though it never showed. "Pardon me?"

"Temporary custody," Master Bruce assured me. "I'll be his legal guardian until more permanent arrangements can be made, preferably outside of Gotham. He'll be staying in the manor with us. You did suggest I get involved on a personal level. How much more personal can I get than by becoming his guardian?"

Now if I were a lesser man, I would have dropped my jaw for a minute then screamed, "Are you out of your mind?!" Thankfully I am not. I merely stared at the young man before me for a moment, then crossed my arms, glaring slightly. "Do you truly believe this is the wisest course of action Master Bruce? To take him into your life and subject himself to this danger?"

"I am not showing him the Batcave," he assured me. A slight glare came to his face. "If anything, I don't want him anywhere near Batman. No. He'll be in one of the bedrooms upstairs. You can pick whichever one you think is best."

"May I remind you this is a human child we're dealing with? Not a pet." I kept an edge in my voice as I spoke, ensuring he'd listen. "Mr. Grayson will need considerably more than a room and some food."

"I am very well aware of that Alfred." Master Bruce turned towards a Kindle he had on his work bench. "I've been reading up on how to handle children and-"

"And yet I believe that until you overcome your own fears of commitment and loss, I will be the one carrying for the lad." This set the detective back a step, his face maintaining control of his outward emotions. It did little to fool me. He wanted to deny my claims, but knew I would not bring it up unless I was right. "I fear though I will not be able to keep up with this one. You will be taking a hand in his life, more than as his benefactor."

This brought his doubts to a stop for the moment. "So... you're fine with him living here?"

"Indeed I am. There are few places safer than this house and security is one thing the lad needs." I still gave him a critical eye for landing this on me so suddenly. "But you are not allowed to lock yourself away while he remains here. So long as Richard Grayson resides in this house, he is primarily your responsibility."

Though he nodded and accepted my declaration, I knew what the outcome would be. This was still the same lad I raised who could not handle the traditional school system after his parents' deaths. He had few friends, even of the casual sort. Young Richard would have a hard time, no matter what chastisement I placed in my employer's ears.

Still, I straight away freshened up a room for the lad before retiring for the night. I had no doubt we would be seeing him as soon as the doors were open at that dreaded facility, and he would need a place of his own posthaste. It was the same room Master Bruce used as a child. The tale of Robin Hood was carved into the wood trim below the ceiling, circling the room. I wished I had more time to truly freshen the place, but my employer does like to send me for loops every now and again. The curtains needed washing, the floor vacuuming, the dresser a good oiling, and the bed really should have been stripped and changed before anyone used it. Still, it was a temporary room, one only to be in use a short time. Later I was able do all that, but not until after the lad was with us.

But I digress. Needless to say, I successfully defeated Batman in retaining a good night's sleep, and at nine the next morning I had the joy of opening the curtains to wake the vigilante. Even with overcast, Master Bruce stirred and covered his head best he could, asking for more time. Though he claims to no longer be a child, I have many memories of him acting like any ordinary one while being an adult.

"I think not Master Bruce." I fetched a suitable suit from his closet along with other necessities, laying them where he would put them on after a brief shower and shave. "There is a lad that needs retrieving this morning and he should not have to wait a day more to be saved."

Being reminded of our earlier plans, the man swiftly left his bed to shower while I left to fetch his quick breakfast and coffee. I had already eaten by then of course, found some old child clothes from storage, started a load of laundry, and brought the car around all so we could retrieve him shortly. Seeing the way Master Bruce moved that morning told me I was not the only one eager to bring the boy into our lives.

My employer barely managed to grab his tie along with a folder filled with documents before running into the Lincoln's back seat. His breakfast was hastily placed inside afterwards so he could eat on the way. At that moment I did not think much on the rush he was clearly in, labeling it as anxiety in meeting again this young lad who would change his life.

Unfortunately when we arrived at Browngate Institute, I was proven wrong. Captain Gordon was waiting outside the building with a cup of coffee, along with an ill-dressed middle aged woman carrying a designer briefcase and purse, and another well groomed madam I had seen once before. "Sir, is there a reason these three are here as well?"

"Jim needs to sign off on the custody release paper, and that social worker has to be there to officiate the process. Rachel is here to make certain everything is on the up and up. You don't mind acting as a witness do you?"

I gave him a dry eye from the rearview mirror. "Bruce, if you ever intend to take in another child while I am in your employ, I should be the first person you inform. The only acceptation to this would be your wife, should you ever get around to having one. Having children and legal documents sprung up on me is hardly good for my heart."

My chastisement proved to make him slightly more nervous than he was earlier. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "I'll remember that."

Shortly after parking, we approached the welcoming committee, papers in hand. Master Bruce put up his best face and greeted them in order of familiarity. "Rachel! Captain Gordon! I'm so glad you two could both make it. Have I kept you waiting long?"

"Not really. Ms. Gorgans," Gordon cast the older woman a chastising look, "arrived just a minute ago, and I like to come early to things."

"Mr. Wayne, you're late." Rachel, the other woman, gave him an irked glare. "By five minutes. This is not a good way to start a relationship with a kid, or anyone."

"I had a really hard time waking up." I had rarely heard such honesty coming from this young man's lips when it came to his tardiness. "This weather tends to make me sleep longer and deeper than normal. If it weren't for Alfred, I probably wouldn't be here 'til noon."

"You're the one who set this all up Mr. Wayne." Ms. Gorgans' sour look could spoil milk, but not Master Bruce. "If you're going to be this irresponsible while taking care of the boy, he may be better off here."

"No innocent, traumatized child belongs here," Gordon snapped at the woman before anyone else could. Master Bruce's chilling glare on her was a fit reminder of where he stood in that regards as well. I've had too many years of practice giving out distaste without appearing such, so I was not counted among those glaring at her (being only myself).

The social worker looked away uncomfortably and started towards the institution's front doors. "Let's just get this over with."

"You don't really like kids do you Ms. Gorgans." Rachel's icy gaze cut to the core of the matter as we followed her. "You certainly don't seem to care for one."

The distasteful woman snorted. "Not the ones who are natural criminals. He's a circus brat and a gypsy. He'll be up to no good no matter where he's placed. Just cutting corners."

"People make their own destinies," Master Bruce stated firmly. "How or where we're born makes no difference."

The woman eyed him with distaste as we passed through the portal, a light drizzle starting to come upon us from the heavens. "This coming from the one born to riches and is wasting it all with parties and loose women? I wouldn't be surprised if you have to pay alimony one of these days Mr. Wayne."

I could see my former charge's jaw tighten at the statement and I inwardly cringed. The playboy image he perfected the past few years was to push away any ideas of him being Batman. It was originally my idea he participate in very public events and be with many women, I am ashamed to say. It was in hopes he'd meet the right woman, marry, and settle down, putting the cowl behind him. My plan seems to have backfired on multiple levels.

Sighing, we traveled through a lobby and security points to the visiting center of the building. The councilors and guards around the place gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach. The few boys I saw there wore old, ill-fitting grey uniforms, sported the odd bruise and scratch, and bore the stony faces of criminals long convicted of serious crimes. Many of them looked as if they could use a few good meals. The rooms themselves look clean enough, sterile even. No character and nothing indicating the children played there. This was not a place I would recommend for anyone to live in.

Master Bruce had long ago passed some paperwork to his lawyer, informing her he spent a good portion of the night making certain everything was in order for today. This made the lady smile, seeming to forgive him for his tardiness, as she went through it a final time to ensure the same. The way her smile grew, I could only assume everything was in place. Her confidence while speaking with the social worker and the warden of the institute assured this, easing my troubles considerably.

Captain Gordon, like myself, was also inspecting the place, waiting impatiently for one of the aids to retrieve Richard at long last. He too was not pleased with the institution. Being a father of two and having taken many men to prison, he was indeed a good judge for this place. "It's like a mini-Arkham."

My employer grunted in agreement, mostly keeping silent. Eyeing him, I knew he was nervous now. There was always the possibility Richard Grayson would reject this, close himself off from the two of us, and not want our help. And one of Master Bruce's fears is rejection, though he hides it well. I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, making him calm down considerably. A slight smile from me brought a slightly larger one to him. We had to keep faith, else this truly would go sour.

Finally, the gate keeping the boys contained inside opened, and I was able to look upon the lad who was the source of so much commotion in our lives from then on. A small eight year old boy, who clearly had missed many meals lately, stumbled forward, tripping over the grate's door jamb as he came forward. His sky blue eyes were scared, a distant forlorn look in them I only saw once before. It was clear he cried recently, and often. There was a bruise on his face and dirt on his oversized uniform. His onyx hair was filthy, furthering my belief on how horrible this place was. Richard's time there was a nightmare he'd never speak of if he could help it, ever.

"Good Lord..." I whispered, bringing the sentiments of the rest of us to light in a heartbeat. I recalled a photograph of him from earlier, bright, shining, and well cared for. A week in this place after his parents' demise took all of that away. He looked at all of us with trepidation, and none of us could blame him.

"Here are his things." Another aid came from a side room with a box. The way the child jerked over and ran for it surprised everyone, the aid's protest even more so. "HEY! Get back in line!"

"GIMME BACK PEANUT!" The boy's yell was only emphasized by his large leap upwards, grabbing the edge of the box, and bringing it crashing down to the ground. There was little inside: a backpack, a torn leotard and vest, a stuffed elephant, and Master Bruce's missing suit coat. Richard quickly grabbed the elephant and hugged it close to him, smothering his head into its. This had to be 'Peanut'. Seeing his clear emotional attachment to the toy, I was appalled this institution took it away from him. And that the aid was trying to separate them again.

"Why you little-!"

In an instant Master Bruce grabbed the man's arm and glared at him. Not just any glare, but one reserved for criminals. "What the-"

"Don't." The aid paled a few shades before being released and shoved away. He glared at the aid for a moment longer, long enough for the boy to look up from his toy and at him, confusion, fear, and wonder in his eyes. My employer turned away from the aid afterwards and slowly to the lad, his face softening. He was making every effort to not scare him, slowly smiling at him. "Hello Richard. Do you remember me?"

Young Richard blinked at him for a long while, the gears slowly turning in his mind. It was well over a week since their last meeting and he must have been distracted by every negative action done since, so he not remembering the large man before him would not be unlikely. After a minute though, he looked over to the suit coat on the ground, biting his lower lip anxiously as he nodded. Sign enough he remembered him sacrificing his coat to him at the least.

Master Bruce smile relaxed some as he knelt down to the boy's eyelevel. "My name is Bruce Wayne. I'm here to take you away from this place, to my home. If you want to that is." He offered his hand to the child, making no sudden movements in order to gain his trust. Genuine kindness was on my former charge's face as he spoke softly. "Would you like to come home with me Richard?"

The child looked at him tentatively for a long minute before looking at the others in the room. From his movements I could tell he recognized Captain Gordon and Ms. Gorgans, both with a certain amount of trepidation. Rachel was a new face to him and he wasn't certain what to do with her. When his gaze came to me, our eyes met, and I felt then and there a connection I would one day savor with joy. It helped I gave him a warm smile at that time and stood close to Master Bruce I believe, but it was clear he did not fear me like he did the others. I was the kindly old man in a suit.

Still the lad had a decision to make. His gaze returned to Master Bruce at last, and after a moment more, he nodded. Mr. Grayson slowly came towards the man and let one hand go of his toy in order to take his hand. Some anxiety left him as soon as they connected, and I could see it slipping off my former charge's back. Slowly he stood up, firmly clasping the lad's hand as he went. "Alright then. There's some people I'd like to introduce you to real quick before we go. First is my butler and oldest friend, Alfred Pennyworth."

"A pleasure I assure you." I bowed deeply to the young lad, giving him as much respect as I would the Queen but with enough flare to betray my time in the theater. The child blinked in recognition at the sight, holding his favorite toy a little closer to hide the peaking of a smile no doubt. He knew a fellow performer when he saw one, and knew he could trust me. "I look forward to be making your acquaintance young sir."

"You talk funny."

To think the young master's first words to me would be about how I spoke. Master Bruce held back a snort, barely, while I chuckled fondly. He too had said so when we first met. I could hear Captain Gordon and Miss Rachel suppress laughs as well. "That is because I come from England. And where prey tell are you from?"

"Haly's Circus," Young Richard stated evenly, though quietly.

"Indeed. But where was the circus located at the time of your birth?"

He thought about it for a moment before admitting, "Nebraska, I think."

"Fine place Nebraska. We must speak more of the circus and Nebraska later. Master Bruce." I inclined my head towards the others. As fond as I was in starting what promised to be a good relationship in the future, the others had to be made known to the lad. My employer nodded, taking the hint easily enough. "Allow me to tidy up as you finish your rounds."

"Of course Alfred. Richard, if I may reacquaint you with Captain Gordon." They moved on to the officer while I leaned towards the ground to pick up those items scattered around. The backpack caught my eye very well as it was a Superman brand, and it was filled with some things. Possibly everything the lad could pack up before being taken to this dreadful place. The ruined clothing must have been what he wore during his performance while the coat was clearly a last minute addition he much needed. And this horrid place took it all away from him as soon as he was through those doors.

If I were ten years younger, I'd tell them what for. They were either going to make criminals or vigilantes if they continued to do this, not put them on the straight and narrow.

Looking back to the lad, I could tell he snuck glances in my direction during the introductions. I kept an ear out while gathering his belongings, and learned Young Richard had accidentally associate Captain Gordon with the woman who put him in there. A few words about how worried he was for him and mentioning his children to the boy calmed him down enough to say hello to the man. Miss Rachel was currently talking to him, explaining the placement he was going under and the child protection laws in terms he could understand. Once he confirmed he understood what was going on, and it was recorded on a digital recorder, they were ready to move onwards.

"Just need to run this by the judge and everything's settled." She looked over to Master Bruce and smiled encouragingly. "He's all yours Mr. Wayne. Take good care of him until better arrangements can be made."

"Better arrangements?" A slight whimper entered the boy's voice and I could see his hand tighten around Master Bruce's.

The caring adults, myself included, exchanged looks of concern. Captain Gordon explained it best. "I'm afraid that this is only temporary. This will only be until the man responsible for your parents'... deaths is caught. After that..."

"We'll try to find you a good home outside of Gotham," Miss Rachel promised. She cast my employer a knowing look. "Bruce Wayne isn't the best guardian to have, and certainly not the best example. But he's a good man and his home is very safe."

"My home is yours as long as you want it to be," Master Bruce stated evenly, looking down into the boy's eyes. Though the others gave sound explanations, I knew those words were all it would take to calm the boy down. He needed stability, but the law at that moment would not support a permanent home with us. Batman couldn't have anyone in the house at that point in time who did not share his secret and Bruce Wayne, with his reputation, was unsuited for parenthood. That did not mean he did not care what happened to the lad.

Nibbling his lip, Richard nodded, eyes to the floor again. He'd accept the manor as his home for now. Master Bruce's open invitation would not be forgotten. Gently my former charge nudged him forward. "Let's get to the car and head to the manor. We'll be settling some matters tomorrow."

Numbly the boy nodded again, following the man's command sadly. Concern flashed before his guardian's face as they walked, mirrored by Captain Gordon and Miss Rachel along with myself. If young Richard remained like this, many a sad days would follow. I have seen it before, and did not wish for this to be repeated. Above us I could hear the rain becoming heavier, worrying me even further. Oh why did it have to be the rainy season? I had neglected to bring an umbrella from the Lincoln.

When we reached the front doors again, my employer stopped and looked outside with trepidation. Miss Rachel had reached into her purse and brought out an umbrella suitable only for one while Ms. Gorgans barreled through the rain without a care. Captain Gordon was staying behind to consult with the institution's staff to start an investigation of his own, so he was little concerned about the shower outside. I myself did not fear getting wet, nor did Master Bruce in truth, but we both feared for Young Master Richard. In his state he was not likely to fair well from a little rain. His one glance outside the door made him shy away even, protecting his best friend from the water with his own body.

After a moment's thought, Master Bruce looked to me and the suit coat I was holding. "Alfred, if I may."

Almost reading his mind, I passed him the coat and watched fondly as he knelt down before the boy. Surprised, the lad didn't move a muscle as the jacket was placed over his body, including his head. He merely watched the man cover him before being picked up and held close to his guardian's large chest. By the time he was settled, only Young Master Richard's face could be seen under the coat, and only because he was still staring slack jawed at the man who was showing him such kindness. The man smiled gently at him as he explained. "Can't have you getting sick before tomorrow. You won't want to miss it."

"Miss what?" Even I was wondering what was occurring tomorrow, though I had an idea. Another surprise sprung upon me though only in date.

"Your parents' funeral."

Hearing that, the lad's head drooped sadly. I doubt the boy heard Master Bruce telling him to brace himself as they left the building. He was too preoccupied in the man's tie and his thoughts. I myself had to hurry to the car before any of us became too wet and open the doors.

In the future we would see photographs of us leaving the institute like this in the local tabloids, making us look like kidnappers to some. I still have a few copies of the images as it marks the first day Master Richard was with us, and displays the beginnings of Master Bruce's protective, parental side which only grew in the years to come. I strongly believe it was when he held the lad so close that morning he started to discover what he once lost: the unending love of family.

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A/N: Writing from Alfred's point of view is kinda hard, especially since I have to use his way of speaking at all times. it's like getting into character but harder. XP So how did you like their first official meeting? Ms. Gorgans is a reoccurring OC in my Batfam fics, mostly because I need an evil social worker. Yes, she is evil. She's just not gonna get caught.

Dunno when I'm gonna update again. Took a quick look at the rest of it and realized I'm stuck on chapter 4. *sigh* too many ideas really, but how to continue them is harder than I like. But it's still being done! YAY! until next time! And happy birthday batman! Two more years (I think) and the Robin saga gets it's 75th. Way to go Dick!


	3. Chapter 3

Ever had one of those nights where you just wanted to update something even though you were busy with other projects? well... this chapter is the last completed chapter I have right now for this one. the next one is in the works. so yeah, enjoy! a scene from my private mythos is here, along with a few easter eggs. kudos to those who find them!

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3

The rain stopped before we reached Wayne Manor thankfully, but it took quite a bit of coaxing for Young Master Richard to let go of Master Bruce and see the building for the first time on his own two feet. Several waves of silent tears had nearly incapacitated the boy during the ride over, to the point we could not establish any ground rules before making it inside.

To this day I can still recall the look of wonder and confusion as the traumatized child laid eyes on the building. His lower jaw nearly reached the floor when he saw the interior. Both I and Master Bruce exchanged brief relieved smiles as the sight temporarily put dreary thoughts aside. Wayne Manor had this effect on people not used to grandeur, especially in the entrance hall.

"Whoa..."

"It's just the two of us here," my employer informed him. "Well, three now. Occasionally Alfred calls private contractors to help with certain areas of the house and grounds, but for the most part, it's just us.

"Some doors are locked of course," he further explained. "All with good reasons. Other than the locked rooms and what lies within, you have free reign to go wherever you like. Alfred will be able to show you around the entire house shortly."

I raised an eyebrow at the young man, again silently asking what he was thinking. Young Master Richard was his ward, not mine. The time would be better spent if they explored the house together, not separate. He only gave me a small explanation to my inquiry. "There are still some legal matters I need to attend to before tomorrow."

"Of course there are." The doubt was eminent in my voice I'm afraid, but it did prove a point to my employer. Hefting the lad's bag and old clothes, I offered my hand to my latest responsibility. "Young Master Richard, shall I show you to your room?"

Mutely the boy nodded, still amazed at the sight of the building. He fumbled to put his hand in mine while keeping a hold of Peanut. Master Bruce gave his final words before returning to the garage for a personal car to finish his errands. "I'll be back before dinner, I promise."

"Indeed you will sir." As the door leading outside shut, I guided the lad gently up the stairs towards the room I had prepared for him. Thankfully he was tall enough to walk up the stairs as he moved his head every which way to take in all the sights. He was particularly fond of looking at the chandeliers. That should have been a warning to me for the future, but I was not paying close attention to what he was looking at, just that he was looking. "This way now."

The first place I pointed out to him was of course his new room. Master Richard's mouth seemed like it would never close as he looked inside. "This... is my room?"

"Indeed it is." I let go of his hand in there, placing his backpack on the bed and unzipping it as he took it in. "This was once Master Bruce's room when he graduated from the nursery. He chose it for the wood carvings above."

I pointed it out, as I was certain it would entertain the lad for a while at least. He seemed so distracted by the size of the place that he was not taking in the arts and the details. Looking up, he finally saw the trimmings displaying the old British fable of a particular outlaw. Recognition dawned on his face as he took them in. "Robin Hood?"

"Yes it is sir." I gave him a warm smile as I unloaded his bag. The clothes smelled a bit musty from being stuffed away for a week, but not intolerable. They were well worn and some looked too small for him, but they would have to do until we could acquire new clothes for the lad. "One of Master Bruce's favorite stories. He always admired him for helping the people of Nottingham and Sherwood."

"But..." Master Richard started, uncertain. "He's rich."

"As was Robin," I reminded him, taking some hangers from the closet to hang the wrinkled garments. I would have preferred to toss the whole lot into the laundry, but at that moment it would likely upset the boy. "Robin was a lord, heir to the Locksley name. He tossed that aside to help his people rather than himself. Robin Hood and Master Bruce have many common traits."

"Really?" He finally looked to me, really seeing me once again instead of his pain or the sheer size of his new home. He was a bit hopeful, but not sure what to believe. He needed more than just words to believe, but I did my best.

"Yes, he does." I gave him one of my most reassuring smiles as I sung my former ward's praises. "He donates quite a bit of his fortune to charity, and makes certain they go to the right people. He traveled the world alone for many years to understand people of all sorts, and to better understand himself. He cannot stand to see injustices done to people, and has always taken a stand against those who abuse their powers on those with nothing. If he had to become an outlaw in order to save his people, he would."

I could see a spark of hero worship appear in the lad's eye, and I prayed I hadn't gotten his hopes up. "So... He's kinda like... Superman?"

My lips twitched in amusement at the conclusion. From Robin Hood to Superman. Children made very strange connections indeed. "To a degree. Master Bruce prefers working from the shadows though, instead of the spotlight. He's had enough attention for merely existing and trying to live, he does not want every good deed he does to be scrutinized by the press. He makes fewer enemies that way."

The child stared at me in slight confusion. "Okay... so he's not?"

"Not exactly." Oh how to describe Master Bruce to a child who barely knew him? Who I knew would likely not see as much of him as he'd like while staying there. This was a tricky job indeed. "Master Bruce is... Well he's a good man. He has a heart like Superman's and a nobility like Robin Hood's. And that is what matters."

Still confused, he watched me in silence. Master Richard truly did not know what to make of all of this. He had too many questions and never enough answers. As I finished putting things away, he asked the question I knew would come. "Why did he... why am I here?"

I closed the drawer before coming towards the bed and motioning for him to join me. I am so glad the boy was not as bitter and stubborn as Master Bruce was at that age, for he joined me without any thought or question. "There are many reasons for you to be here, I assure you, but most of all, we believe this is the best place for you at the moment.

"You see... Master Bruce lost his parents when he was a little younger than yourself." Shock and grief entered his face at the same time as what I said weighed in on him. I lowered my eyes for a moment as I recalled what happened to him. "Master Thomas and Mistress Martha Wayne had taken him to the theater for a showing of _The Mask of Zorro_. They went by cab, giving me the night off so I could pursue a lady. On their way home that night, they could not manage to grab another outside the theater. So they wandered into an alleyway to find a shortcut to another street to catch one.

"A mugger with a gun appeared and shot Mr. and Mrs. Wayne right in front of Master Bruce." The boy gasped, tightening his hold on the elephant as tears started in his eyes. I placed a hand on the child's to calm him, but I doubt it did much good. "Only Master Bruce can tell you exactly what happened that night, as there were no other witnesses. Some say it was a miracle he survived, others a curse. It has haunted him ever since and he has traveled the world twice over to help himself heal."

"Does he have any family?" The quiet, concerned plea drew a sad smile from my lips, ever so slightly. Now came my pain, my involvement.

"After his parents' funeral, he was taken to his mother's brothers, and they placed him in a boarding school. His time with the Kanes and the school were nightmares after that experience. It took me two years for me to gain custody of him, as his parents wanted in their will. Master Bruce is estranged from his mother's side. His father was an only child. You could say I'm the only family he has.

"That is, unless you would like to help fill the void." That made the child blink, and even myself to rethink what I said. I doubt Master Bruce appreciated my telling him the story of his tragic youth, but I do not regret it. After all, "Blood does not always make a family."

"And a house doesn't always make a home." I gave him a small smile as I knew the boy understood this at least. I had heard the phrase somewhere in my time as a performer, and was pleased it transferred itself to Haly's Circus performers as well. He looked down in thought as he held Peanut closer. "This room is bigger than our trailer."

"I imagine so."

"Is it a home?"

I tried to give him an encouraging smile. "We can make it one. Now, I must ask, would you like to change and rest before seeing the rest of the manor, or would you rather come down to the kitchen and help me make some cookies?"

When his eyes lit up at the word 'cookies', I knew I would have to invest in a jar once again. Master Bruce accidentally broke the ceramic one when he was twelve and I had not replaced it yet. I cannot say whether the one I attained the following day ever had a bottom; I fill it constantly. Either way, the child nodded, held his toy closer, and murmured, "Cookies are good."

"Indeed they are. Now come. There are a few places I think you should see before the kitchen." Pushing myself off the bed, I offered a hand to the lad to guide him to some important locations. He took it after a moment's hesitation and slid off after me. Master Richard looked around the room one last time before we exited, and I am certain he liked the room just as much as Master Bruce did at that age.

* * *

We spent much of the day exploring the manor I must say, and the rest in the kitchen. Master Richard was surprised to be having a proper sandwich at lunch, with lettuce, tomatoes, avocado, turkey bacon, and proper mayonnaise instead of 'PB&amp;J' as he called it. I dare say he was baffled at the healthy meal before we deviled into making chocolate chip cookies. I had to prod the boy into helping soften the butter, but he had little trouble scraping the near empty bowl clear of any leftover dough.

It was nearly four in the afternoon before Master Bruce returned to the manor, and by then we had returned to the young lad's new room to better freshen it up. My employer must have been searching for us through the entire building, for when he found us he sighed with relief. Several items were in his hands, none of them meant for adults. I raised an eyebrow at the bags momentarily before voicing his appearance. "Master Bruce! Welcome home."

"Hello Alfred. Richard." He crossed the threshold, carefully approaching the bed the child was sitting on, still clutching his best friend.

The lad bit his lower lip for a moment before attempting a smile at him. "Hello Mr. Wayne."

"Been having a good day?" Carefully he placed the shopping bags and a small garment bag upon the bed, keeping his distance from the boy with the utmost care. Internally I groaned. This was a child, not a wild beast or a pet. Master Bruce really needed to learn how to approach children properly. They off-times mistake nervous distance as distain.

The boy nodded, clearly thinking he did something wrong. I came over and took the garment bag away to the closet. A freshly prepared suit which hopefully fit the boy hung within no doubt. I barely heard the child say, "Thank you for taking me in Mr. Wayne."

"It's my pleasure, I assure you." I heard a small awkward pause while my back was turned, but when I turned back around, I saw a sight I knew was right. My former charge put a hand into his pocket, taking out a black jewelry bag as he sat on the edge of the bed to talk to our guest. "Richard, there's something I want to give you before tomorrow. Something important."

"What?" came the boy's innocent reply. A moment later the lad gasped, the contents of the pouch sliding into his hands easily. "These... these are..."

"I don't doubt you and Alfred have been talking while I've been away," Master Bruce started, a little nervous. Sadness was etched into each of their features as they spoke. "When... when my parents... when they died... I felt like I was alone. That they would never be near me again. Alfred wanted to prove to me they would never leave me, and so made this for me."

He unbuttoned his collar and let his tie fall apart in order to reach into his shirt and reveal a simple chain with two gold rings on it. His parents' wedding bands. "These are my parents'. They gave these to each other to prove their love and fidelity to one another. I was another piece of proof that they loved each other... that they were here. He told me they would want me to have their rings so I would know how much they cared... how much they will always care... for each other and for me. The rings have no beginning and no end. Just like their love for me. A physical link to me from beyond the grave and reaching into eternity.

"I wanted to do the same for you." Inside young Master Richard's hands was an almost identical chain with two much less valuable rings on it. The Graysons were by no means rich, but their love for one another was evident in how much they cared for those rings, and their son. "Think of the rings as a promise from them that they will always be there for you. The chain is big on you now, but you will grow into it. It's made of the strongest metals known to man and won't rust or tarnish. You can have them with you always."

The lad just stared at the rings as he spoke, shaking slightly as a fresh wave of tears sprung up in the boy's eyes. For a brief moment he closed his hands around the rings and closed his eyes, possibly remembering something. My employer watched him silently, maybe worried he did the wrong thing, for a long minute before there was any other reaction. Master Richard gave no warning, no sign, before lunging at Master Bruce's torso, wrapping his small arms around him, and hugging him for dear life, sobbing. The man was so startled by the act, he didn't know what to do; usually that was an amusing sight, but this time it was a bit sad.

Yet the boy taught him what to do in time. "Th... Thank you. Thank you Mr. Wayne."

Hearing the gratitude and sobs, Master Bruce gave in and hugged his ward back. I imagine he felt the same harrowing pain as the child at that moment, and the comfort of having someone in your arms again. I started leaving the two so they could bond properly when they let go of each other and Master Richard let his guardian place the chain around his neck. It was a beautiful scene to part on. After all, I had dinner to prepare, and this time for three instead of two.

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A/N: I am very pro-marriage, and if any of you recognize the religious jargon, get yourself some green jello. Yeah, so in sacrifice I brought up the rings on a chain, and honestly that was the first time I could bring it up. This is when they came into play. All the orphaned Waynes have them. Cass and Dami don't get that chance so I thought this would be good for these guys.

hope you liked it! I don't know when I'll be getting back to this one, so I'll post another chapter when I'm ready. there is a poll up so please click what you read. also writing for other genres to expand my skills, so try them out. Laters.


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